LORD BRAMBLE'S REHABILITATION

by Peters, Damon

  Lilly sobbed and licked her lips. "She spanked me," she admitted.

  "You had done something wrong?" John asked.

  Lilly shook her head. "She likes doing it," she murmured, and bit her lips before she could admit to more. The words wanted to tumble out, but Isabel had warned her to be discrete. Poor Lilly didn't know who to trust.

  "There's more, isn't there? Tell us," Debora urged, squeezing strength into the nervous maid.

  "She makes me Miss. I never want to!" Lilly begged.

  "Makes you what?" John asked sternly.

  "Tell him," Debora told her with a gentle squeeze and a kindly smile. "He's a good man, Lilly. Tell him," she advised.

  Lilly sobbed. "She tells me how many I'm going to get, but she stops early, if I've taken them well. And then she makes me do stuff to her; private stuff," she whispered, shaking still further.

  "Tell us," John urged.

  It came slowly out of the girl; the beating on various parts of her body, the need to remain still as it was applied. Then the mistress uncovering herself, positioning herself so Lilly could attend to her with her tongue. Always her tongue, until right at the end when a finger could also be used, just as long as it brought her off.

  "There, there," Debora consoled the softly weeping girl, stroking her back and holding her. "How did she punish you last night?" she gently asked.

  "With her hand," Lilly mumbled, quivering with the memory. "First on my bottom, then I had to kneel and push my chest out, my arms back, so she could slap my breasts," she admitted, still quivering as she recalled the awful ache it had brought to her whole chest.

  "That must have hurt," Debora consoled the maid.

  Lilly nodded. "Not as much as the slaps on my legs," she admitted. "My thighs, my inner thighs," she clarified, seeing the unasked question in their faces.

  "I think we need to see if she's left any lasting marks," Debora said, smiling her most pleasant smile while drawing the girl to stand more directly in front of the seated man.

  "Oh no, please Miss. It didn't hurt, honest, I'm fine," Lilly begged.

  "Stop your arguing girl, or I'll see to it that you get a proper spanking!" John called out. "Now, let Nurse Debora undress you so we can have a proper look at you," he told her.

  "Oh Sir!" Lilly sobbed. "Please don't tell Miss Isabel what I said!" she cried, putting her hands together in prayer while Debora stepped behind her and undid the buttons on her uniform.

  "Be good," Debora told her. "Do well, and there may even be a better position for you," Debora didn't wonder.

  That stilled her, and John watched the maid shyly glance at him as the bodice of her uniform slid from her trunk, baring plump, good sized breasts, too generous for the current fashion but lovingly perched on her chest, luscious teats waiting to be sucked or nibbled, pulled or twisted, all of that and more.

  "I don't see any hand marks," he noted.

  "They faded quickly, Sir," Lilly admitted. The slaps had caused a dreadful surge of pain, followed by a burning ache that was quick to change to passion once she was alone and could pleasure herself. She had had the devil of a time, trying to satisfy the ache in her chest while at the same time build the pleasure between her legs that ultimately brought her on and left her satisfied and able to sleep.

  "Slap her tits, Debora," John told his nurse. "I want to see them with hand-marks," he explained.

  "Oh Sir; please, no!" Lilly begged, but the nurse was already stepping in front of her, quietly urging her to roll her shoulders back and keep her arms out of the way.

  Lilly bit her lip and looked beseechingly at the woman, hoping she'd not strike her too hard. And the nurse's arm drew back and the hand sped round to strike the outer surface of her left breast, hard enough to make her gasp and squirm, the hand mark quickly appearing on the soft and her fair skin of her breast.

  "Oh Sir, it stings so!" Lilly whimpered, squirming under the surge of stinging sensations swarming into her breast, her nipple reactive by swelling and throbbing, urging her to grip it and squeeze.

  "Is that how she did it?" he asked, standing to step across to them, taking the marked breast to squeeze it in his palm and feel the nipple burn into his skin.

  "Yes Sir," the maid panted, her face growing hot under the attentions of both the nurse and her master.

  "You have nice breasts Lilly," John remarked, his hand sliding from one to the other to have that one squeezed and weighted, to confirm it was as firm as the first, the button teat just as responsive.

  "And she spanked your bottom too?" he asked, smiling as his caresses made the girl pant and squirm.

  "Yes Sir," the maid admitted, her breath quickening as she sensed what they would want next.

  "Take up the position Lilly. Nurse Debora will spank you a couple of times and you will tell her if it was hard enough or not," John ordered, stepping back.

  "But I haven't done anything," the sorry maid whimpered, her hands out from her sides as the nurse busied herself with working the uniform off Lilly's hips and bottom, baring the girl.

  John stood back, arms folded, and admired the young woman's proud and heavy breasts before allowing his eyes to slide down to feast on her pelvis, her vulva nice and plump, extending upwards to a broad pubis nicely decorated with dark curls. Debora turned the girl so she could reach forward and support herself with outstretched hands on the arm of the sofa, and John admired the maid's plump bottom, nodding with the confirmation that the ample cheeks would take a spanking with some ease.

  Debora swept her hand down and grinned as poor Lilly gasped.

  "Well? Did you mistress spank you that hard, or harder still?" he asked.

  "Not so hard," Lilly whimpered.

  "What, like this?" Debora asked, delivering a second blow to the same cheek and grinning as the girl jerked and gasped, a whimper following as the flesh turned a bright and sore pink.

  "Yes," Lilly nodded, her toes curling into the rug as John stepped forward to fondle her bottom, doing as he'd done with her breasts, now swaying on her chest as he squeezed and weighed each bottom cheek, taking a moment to use both hands and part them to view her little dainty anal ring within their pale seam, clenching under his inspection.

  "And she spanked you inner thighs, is that not so?" he asked, his clenching fingers moving lower so he could drag the base of her labia apart and expose the pink and moist passage that appeared ready for the taking. Her scent waffled up to his nose, an erotic musk that confirmed her secret excitement at the role she was being asked to perform.

  "Yes," the startled and breathless girl admitted, eyes wide as the fingers continued to hold her apart, the sensation flooding her with wetness. She burnt and softly sobbed, knowing the they'd both see the trickle from her purse and know her secret excitement.

  "I think we should lay her on her back along the seat of the couch with her lower back raised upon the arm," John suggested. "We'll see if she can manage to keep her legs raised and parted during her ordeal," he mused, nodding to himself as he visualised it.

  Debora agreed and dragged Lilly up and forward to point her towards the couch, knowing the girl had heard all and knew the position wanted of her.

  "Please Sir, I'll be good. I'll do other things, anything you want of me Sir," Lilly begged, even as the nurse steered her into sitting on the armrest, then falling back to lay with the back of her head and shoulders against the seat cushions.

  "What do you think Debora?" John asked, watching the panting girl's legs rise and part, exposing her pink tinted vulva and the hollow of her crotch, gleaming with moisture.

  "I think a couple of sharp slaps on her soft inner thighs should make her a good quick fuck," the nurse answered, smiling down at the maid while stroking the soft and warm skin that she would shortly be slapping.

  "Please Miss. Not hard," Lilly begged, gazing up at the commanding nurse with fretful eyes.

  Debora smiled and brought her hand down in a quick stroke that landed loudly on the soft skin of Lilly's inner t
high. The maid squealed in response and arched, her eyes widening and her limbs quivering as the aftermath sped rapidly into her crotch where it spread like a wildfire through her lower body.

  "Keep those legs up and out," John murmured, and watched the panting, whimpering girl fight against the urge to clamp her thighs together. It added to her appeal, as did the bright hand mark on her inner thigh and the swell of her breasts as she panted for breath, her expression begging him to finish with her punishment and begin with his other use of her.

  "One more please Nurse," John said. "Decorate her other thigh, then we'll see just how good a fuck she is too," he smiled, reaching for his trousers to begin preparing himself for the maid's quick taking.

  Debora stroked the smooth warm skin she was aiming to strike and pinched it, grinning as Lilly jumped and gasped. Then her hand was rising, going as far as shoulder height before she stopped and delivered the sharp slap to the pinch mark, grinning proudly as Lilly cried out and jerked.

  Debora and John exchanged places and John finished pulling his trousers and underpants down to the shuffled forward and stand between the maid's raised and splayed out legs, inner thighs marked with one blazing hand mark while her sex was tinted an alluring pink, labia parted at the base where she gleamed with wetness.

  "Good girl," he murmured, noting how her legs rose that little bit further as she offered herself to him. He pushed his cock down, drawing her labia apart to reveal all of her pink wonder to him, and without further preamble speared her deliciously tight and hot cunny, forcing himself within, teeth grit as her heat invaded him.

  Her wetness allowed him to slide fully into her and he gasped to feel her clench in an effort to hold him within her. He remained there for a moment, his cock responding to the clenching of her passage with jerks of its own, and then he moved, long slow strokes the nurses had urged him to use in order to pleasure them as well as himself. Slow lengthy strokes of his cock, powered by the full weight of his body behind each thrust, the speed gradually quickening as moisture, heat and her little cries drew him into greater and greater need of his release.

  "Sir, Sir!" the maid cried, shaking her head to deny the rapidly overwhelming pleasure his quickening thrust were bringing her.

  He grinned down at her and watched her lovely breasts rock upon her chest with the force of his thrusts.

  "Sir!" she wailed, her hands gripping his corded neck as, with another long wail, she was swept into her orgasm.

  John thrust another half a dozen times through the clenching of her passage and the blooming heat he felt surround him with every new thrust. He then rose rapidly from her body to hold his cock over her, adding his own cry as burning seed spat from his organ and decorated the maid's fair skin and crinkly pubic hair. Debora was quickly at his side to purr and fondle his tight buttocks, her hand taking his organ from him to finish stroking his erection from him.

  CHAPTER FIVE. Isabel has a visitor.

  Isabel sat on the window bench overlooking the long sweep of meadow that was the front of the manor, the drive curving in from the west. It was her favourite place and she loved to sit with her legs on the seat and her thighs supporting a good book, quietly reading.

  The book was one from her father's library. You could find just about anything in the old man's library if you looked carefully enough. This one was entitled Miss Harvey's Wedding, only poor Miss Harvey never quite made it to the matrimonial bed. First, the sailors on the boat bringing her back to England had mutinied and the new captain, a lecherous villain, had taken her for his own. Of course she had refused, but he had beaten her to within an inch of her life and so she had to consent to his demands, forced into bestial acts with the man, her innocence and virginity ripped away in the space of five long hours.

  But the ship, poorly managed, had fallen onto rocks and was broken up. Miss Harvey had landed, exhausted and half naked, on a deserted beach fringing dense jungle. Dark skinned locals had found her. Women had cared for her and she had thought herself save, but their care had been to ensure she was fit enough to become the King's whore, a thing he could use when his wires were disinclined to mate with him.

  Once again poor Miss Harvey had found herself pressed down upon a soft bed, her legs pulled asunder and a man thing inserted powerfully between her thighs.

  Isabel read with her lower lip imprisoned between her teeth and her heart pounding. She had read the book before, often. Although it was an English piece, it rivalled the French for licentiousness, written with skill and the knowledge of a woman.

  The king's wives didn't like the amount of time the king was spending with the fair haired, skinned young woman and sold her to a white slaver, a tall and powerful man whose eyes make her fear for herself. Yet he didn't take her, and scorned her company too. Her attempts at conversation were ignored. They ate and walked in silence, the shackled slaves stumbling along in a line behind them, most of them with just scraps of cloth to cover their dark skinned nakedness.

  Miss Harvey was unable to escape the sight of over a dozen half naked men and women who were chained in a line during the day, and chained to stakes in the ground at night. In the evenings they were made sport of, pushed, hit and lashed until they performed sex acts in front of the fire, in sight of everyone. The wardens, as dark skinned as the slaves, watched, laughed, and placed bets on how long the man would last before spending.

  Isabel felt her heart flutter when she came upon the moment when Miss Harvey began to attempt to woe the insolent slave master, letting him glimpse her legs, bathing while the tent flap was loose, hoping he will glance in at her, become captivated by her beauty and take her, right there on the floor while she was still wet from her bath. She began to wear less and less claiming the jungle heat was too much for her. She left buttons undone, she left the flap of her tent undone while she undressed. She even turned to face the flap, totally naked, unsure if he was there in the darkness watching her or not, and yet hoping he was, dreaming of him ravaging her.

  A movement caught Isabel's eye and she reluctantly put the book aside to look with growing curiosity at the distant movement. As it approached she made out the bright green of Rolland Saxby's VDP Bentley. With a delighted cry and a bright grin she jumped from the seat and slid into slippers to rush downstairs and greet the young man on the drive, not caring who might have been watching as she gave him a long and passionate kiss on the lips.

  "How lovely to see you, Rolland!" she cried, her hands on his arms, feeling the firm muscle developed from his love of golf and tennis. The feel of the cords has her thinking of the slaves in the book and the description of them performing at night beside the fire, the flickering light playing on the men's sturdy buttocks, their rhythmic movements and the sway of the women's tight breasts as they were urged to fuck one another. She felt herself moisten and grinned up at the tall young man, taking his arm to steer him towards the gardens. "What brings you down here?" she asked.

  "I heard you pranged your motor, so thought I'd take a drive down here and see that you're alright," he beamed.

  "Oh, that's so nice of you!" she cried, thankful to still have friends while surrounded by enemies. "There's absolutely nothing to do in this old pile!" she scorned, her face falling as she saw her hopes for parties and gatherings fading into mist.

  "Lovely place like this?" he asked, looking about him. "You could make yourself a golf course over there," he suggested, pointing off to the east onto land sculptured by Capability Brown many years before. "And that flat bit there could easily be converted into a tennis court," he told her, pointing it out.

  "That's not my idea of fun," she told him, smiling up at him while her hands took a hold of one of his to begin tracing his thumb and forefinger, her eyes twinkling with devilish merriment as she teased him into being more forward with her.

  She had done it once before with him, she recalled, at a party - she couldn't remember which one. They had both been drunk and the weather outside had been so warm, the garden so alluring. All s
he really remembered was that it was over before it had really begun, for her anyway. A bit of a disappointment she was sure had been caused by the drink. Otherwise Rolland was a good catch; tall and handsome, fit and energetic, well liked by their group and most importantly, stinking rich.

  "It's that boring, eh?" he grinned, a new look in his eyes as they surveyed her glowing face, then moved down to assess her dress and calculate how best to loosen or lift it, wondering what underwear she wore and how easy it would be to get her out of it. He made a grab for her bottom, the look of it suggesting it would be nice and tight, boyishly smooth and round, the thought of it swelling him in his breeches.

  "Not here," she panted. "Follow me!" she urged, her heart quickening as she recalled that part of the book where the mutinous captain had pinned her arms over her head with just one strong arm, and used his other hand to worm it under her dress and fondle her breasts, grinning down at her as he'd roughly pinched her nipples to have the pain surge in her chest, and meet in her crotch, a new sensation to the virgin who had only known her own soft caressing hand.

  The old stable block was just round the corner of the manor house, part of it converted into a garage for the car, the rest left as it was, dust gathering in the old horse stalls, old leather harnesses hanging from the walls growing brittle now they were no longer needed.

  She pulled him along, her grin promising him plenty of fun, and he helped pull the large doors open enough for them to squeeze within.

  "Here," she told him, pressing herself to his tall and athletic body, melting within with the thought of being taken by such a strong man. He would take her away and look after her, keep her in the style she was accustomed to. Her father could go to hell!

  He looked down at her, grinning and panting, kissing her a multitude of times on her cheeks and lips while his hands slide down her back and onto her bottom.